


Chester

by WinJennster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ACTUAL FLUFF, Fluff, M/M, Marine Dean, from me, inspired by a tumblr post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the bottom of the box was a lumpy something wrapped in tissue. He frowned and pulled it out, turning it over in his hands before tearing the wrapping free.<br/>It turned out to be a battered stuffed clown fish, orange and white, and a little dirty and ragged - obviously well loved. Dean sat down on his cot, unfolding the note carefully printed in blocky letters on <i>My Little Pony</i> stationery.<br/><i>Dear Soldier,</i> (he didn’t even correct it that time)<br/><i>I’m sorry you have to miss Christmas with your family. This is Chester. He’s my best friend and he keeps me safe from monsters. But I think you need to be safe more, so I’m sending him to you. Please take good care of him. </i><br/><i>Love, </i><br/><i>Claire Novak</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Chester

**Author's Note:**

> When plot bunnies attack. All apologies to the Marine who wrote this post. I couldn't resist. It wrote itself.

Dean got the package halfway through his last tour in the ‘Stan, right before Christmas. He was happy to find a bunch of snacks, new socks, car magazines (seriously, for a random package he got lucky!), baby wipes, all the usual goodies.

There was a note attached to the car mags -

_Dear Soldier,_

“Marine”, Dean muttered.

_We hope this finds you well and safe and that these items will be of use to you. You’re in our prayers,_

_The Novak Family,_

_Pontiac, Illinois_

“Well, thanks, Novak Family,” Dean grinned, unpacking the box and putting the stuff away.

At the bottom of the box was a lumpy something wrapped in tissue. He frowned and pulled it out, turning it over in his hands before tearing the wrapping free.

It turned out to be a battered stuffed clown fish, orange and white, and a little dirty and ragged - obviously well loved. Dean sat down on his cot, unfolding a note carefully printed in blocky letters on _My Little Pony_ stationery.

 _Dear Soldier,_ (he didn’t even correct it that time)

_I’m sorry you have to miss Christmas with your family. This is Chester. He’s my best friend and he keeps me safe from monsters. But I think you need to be safe more, so I’m sending him to you. Please take good care of him._

_Love,_

_Claire Novak_

Dean’s eyes burned as he turned the little fish over and over in his hand. That little girl had sent him the most valuable thing that she owned, all in the interest of keeping him, a total anonymous stranger, safe.

“Dammit,” he mumbled, swiping at the tear that slipped out. He pressed the fish to his nose, breathing in the scent of baby powder and lilac. Somewhere, there was a little girl in Pontiac, Illinois who cared about him, sight unseen.

“Winchester!” Henrikson yelled through the fabric of the tent. “Suit up, time to go!”

“On it, Gunny!” he yelled back. Setting the fish on the bed, he jumped to his feet and started gathering his gear. When he was ready, he grabbed a packet of the beef jerky he’d just received and shoved it into one of his many pockets.

The little orange fish caught his eye.

Without a second thought, Dean shoved it in one of his pockets as well.

* * *

 

Mission after mission, Chester rode in Dean’s uniform. He’d taken to squeezing the little fish into the pocket over his heart, ignoring the jibes from his fellow Marines when he took off his armored vest and the lump could be seen. Bass had taken to calling it “Winchester’s Left Boob”, but they all knew what it really was, and it became common practice to pat or run a hand across the left side of Dean’s chest before they left on a mission.

“Chester’s become our guardian angel somehow,” Ash mused at chow one night.

“Don’t you ever lose that damn fish, brotha,” Lafitte said seriously, the others nodding. “You’ll jinx us all.”

“I won’t. Trust me.”

* * *

 

Camp Lejeune had never looked so beautiful. Two months later, Dean was on terminal leave, finally getting out of the Corps after twenty long years. He was thirty-eight, and had his whole life in front of him.

“So what’s next?” Sam asked him, as they sat on his deck.

Off in the distance, Dean could see the lights of San Francisco Bay. “I dunno. I’ve got a shit ton of money saved up and I could seriously just spend the next year driving around in my Baby. No responsibilities, no fucking war - I could do whatever I want.” He held up Chester. “I have to return this first, though.”

“Dean -”

“Sammy, I don’t ask for much. Can you just use the computer at HQ and try and find the Novaks in Pontiac?”

“Do you know how many Novaks are likely in Pontiac?” Sam smiled up at Jess as she brought him a beer. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned down to kiss him, then handed Dean one as well, with a kiss on his forehead. “You do what you want, Dean. You’ve earned it. I’m glad you’re home.” She squeezed his shoulder affectionately before going to push the kids on the swing.

Dean watched his niece and nephew play, their childish voices bright and happy. “Sammy, somewhere out there is a little girl who kept the morale of an entire platoon of Marines optimistic and hopeful. Please, Sam? I know you have access to stuff other people don’t. What good is having a brother in the FBI if he won’t help you find one little girl?”

Sam sighed.

Deanna ran across the lawn and jumped up into Dean’s lap. “Love ya, Unca Dean,” she whispered.

“Love you, too, baby girl.”

The three year old smiled and ran back to play with Jess and Johnnie.

“Please,” Dean said softly.

* * *

 

Three days later, sweating in his dress uniform with a bouquet of daisies and Chester clutched firmly in his damp hands, Dean stared up at a sweet little house in Illinois.

Now that he was there, his nerves went into overdrive. What would little Claire’s parents think? She’d sent the fish and he’d tracked them down like a stalker, which had been Sam’s main concern - these folks could call the police on him! He could get arrested!

“Excuse me, are you looking for someone?”

Dean turned.

Blue eyes. Dark hair. Pink lips. That was all he saw. The most handsome man in the world was staring at him, head tilted. “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no I’m not -” Dean sighed. “I’m looking for the Novak family? They have a daughter named Claire.”

The man smiled. “I’m Claire’s father. My name is Castiel.”

“Oh. Oh, hi,” Dean smiled awkwardly, offering a hand to shake and frowning when he realized his hand was full of daisies. “Oh, crap, sorry,” he muttered, shuffling everything around.

Chester slipped from his grasp.

“Is that?” Castiel reached down, picking Chester up from the sidewalk. “I never thought I’d see this little guy again.”

“Then I am definitely in the right place. Staff Sergeant Dean Winchester,” he smiled, offering his now empty hand.

Castiel shook it. “How did you find us?”

“This is gonna sound really bad, but I had to get Chester back to Claire. Anyway, my brother’s in the FBI and I had him look up Novaks in the Pontiac area and then Novaks with daughters named Claire - anyway, I’m not a stalker, I swear.”

“I can tell,” Castiel smiled again. “Would you like to come in? That uniform is lovely but it looks very hot to be wearing in July.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I have lemonade. Come in. Claire will be here shortly.” Castiel led Dean into the pleasant little house, cozy and inviting, and blissfully cool after standing outside in the July heat. “Have a seat,” Castiel gestured towards the living room.

“Thanks.”

The living room was clean and comfy, pictures lining the mantle over the fireplace. Dean peered at them curiously, startling when Castiel reentered the room.

“Most of the pictures you see are of Claire with her parents; my brother, Jimmy, and his wife, Amelia, lost their lives in a car accident when Claire was four. I took custody of her and I’ve been raising her. Last year, the adoption was finalized. She’s my daughter now.”

“Wow.”

“Honestly, it was why I tried so hard to talk her out of sending Chester. Chester was one of the last things her mom bought her. She insisted that the soldier we were making the package for needed it more.”

Dean looked down at the little fish in his hand.

“I’m so grateful you went through the trouble of bringing it back.”

Looking up, Dean met Cas’s pretty eyes, and ripple of electricity ran up his back as they stared at each other.

“Daddy! Daddy!” The front door opened and slammed shut again, and a beautiful blonde girl barreled around the corner, crashing straight into Castiel. “I had the best day and Hannah read the book I picked out and then we got ice cream and McDonalds and there was Barbie toy in my Happy Meal and I love Hannah and the library and who’s that?” Claire peered around Castiel’s hip to look at Dean.

“Hi Claire,” he said softly, Chester held in his hand.

Her blue eyes widened. “Chester?” she asked softly.

“Yup. I brought him back to you.” He dropped to one knee so Claire could come closer.

“It’s ok,” Castiel told her.

She stepped closer, reaching out one finger to touch Chester. “You brought him home.”

“I did. Because he brought _me_ home. Chester kept my entire platoon safe. He’s the best good luck charm in the world, and I love him a lot, but I think there’s a little girl that needs him back. Chester’s served his time, done his duty, and he’s a full fledged Marine. He can retire now and live the good life.”

Claire smiled, finally taking the fish from him. Her little hands instantly found the small Purple Heart pin the little fish now wore. “What’s this?”

“Well, on a bad mission, Chester got a little hurt and one of the nurses had to sew up a hole in him,” he turned the fish in her hands so she could see the stitches, “so he got a Purple Heart for getting hurt on a mission. He’s one tough fish.”

A dark haired woman entered the room, a bag of groceries in her arms. “Oh. I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

“It’s alright. Dean, this is Hannah.”

A ring glinted on the ring finger of her left hand. _Cas’s wife_ , Dean thought sadly. Not that he was likely to have a chance anyway. He stood. “It’s ok,” Dean said with a smile. “I was just leaving. I just wanted to make sure Miss Claire here got Chester back.”

Claire clutched Chester to her chest and beamed up at him. “Thank you so much Mr. Dean.”

“No, sweetie, thank you.” He ran a hand through her hair. “Thanks for letting me do this,” he said to Cas with a smile. “It means a lot.”

“You should stay for dinner,” Cas smiled. “I’m cooking. I make a mean burger.”

“Yes, here,” Hannah handed him the groceries. “I’ve got to get going if I’m going to get home before Inias. See you tomorrow, Claire?”

“Ok! Love you, Aunt Hannah!”

“Love you, too, pigeon. Nice to meet you, Dean. You should stay for dinner. My _brother_ ,” and he was pretty sure she emphasized that word, “does make a mean burger.” She cocked an eyebrow at Dean, a clear challenge if he ever saw one.

“Alright. Color me convinced. Mind if I change though?”

Cas laughed. “Sounds like a good idea.”

* * *

 

Hours later, Dean was pleasantly stuffed, enjoying a beer on Cas’s back porch as the sun went down.

“She’s finally asleep. She’s seven and already plotting out ways to convince you to marry her.”

Dean chuckled. “That’s adorable. She’s too young for me, though.”

“Indeed.”

Cas settled beside him with his own beer. Crickets chirped and fireflies danced across the backyard as the two men sat in a companionable silence.

“So,” Cas said finally, “how did Chester get his Purple Heart?”

“Uh,” Dean stalled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Piece of shrapnel came through my vest. I was hurt, but Chester caught the brunt of it. I’m not saying the fish saved my life, but,” he shrugged. “I’m still amazed that the nurses were able to get all the blood out him.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again.

“So what now?” Cas asked. “Will we ever see you again?”

“Do you want to see me again?”

Cas blushed in the low light. “I mean - yes, I would, but I don’t know if -”

“If I like guys?”

Face bright red, Cas turned away. “Yes,” he muttered.

“I like guys. I like you, specifically.”

Eyes wide, Cas looked back at Dean. “You do?”

“You seriously mean to tell me you don’t feel it? The connection? I feel like I’ve known you forever and it’s been, shit, not even a day.”

“Spend the night.”

“Whoa, I -”

“Not like that. In the guest room. Just stay. In the morning, we’ll go to breakfast and talk some more and see where this is going. Unless you have to go, then I’d understand but -”

“Nowhere to be,” Dean cut him off. “I’ll stay.”

“Alright,” Cas smiled. They slipped back into comfortable silence again.

Reaching across the gap between their chairs, Dean joined their hands, weaving fingers together.

* * *

 

Not having to put a uniform on everyday was a pleasure, but two years later, on a bright September morning, Dean put his dress uniform on for the last time and made Cas an honest man.

Claire held Chester throughout the short service, and Sam was grinning ear to ear as Dean’s best man.

“Guess I was wrong, huh?” he asked Dean before the service.

“Damn right. Learn to trust me, ok?”

Sam smiled and brushed a nonexistent piece of lint off Dean’s shoulder. “I do trust you. Now go get married, dumbass.”

Later, at the reception, Claire sat on Dean’s lap, Chester in hand. “Chester is a Win-Chester, now,” she grinned, giggling at her own joke.

“Yes, he is,” Dean smiled back, kissing his daughter’s head. “So are you.”

His daughter.

Damn straight.

“I’m sad I didn’t get to marry you but I’m really glad Daddy married you.”

Dean caught Cas’s pretty eyes from across the room. “Me too, sweetheart.”

Claire hopped off his lap and ran to Cas, leaving the fish in Dean’s lap. Dean squeezed the little toy in his hand as he watched his family celebrate his wedding, watched the joy unfold on Cas’s face as he spun their daughter around the dance floor.  

“Thanks, Chester.”

 ****  
  



End file.
